


Mirror Mirror on the Wall, I Don't Trust That Elf at All

by Wrath66



Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, I Blame Tumblr, I Don't Even Know, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-07
Updated: 2019-03-07
Packaged: 2019-11-13 06:28:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18026498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wrath66/pseuds/Wrath66
Summary: A servant girl walks into an empty dungeon room. Except, it's not actually that empty upon closer inspection...





	Mirror Mirror on the Wall, I Don't Trust That Elf at All

**Author's Note:**

> A friend got me into the Dragon Prince, and Season 2 has robbed me of all reason. Aaravos specifically has robbed me of all reason. Since this is the first time I've written more than 5 pages for a fic in over a month I felt it was worth posting and seeing what happens. To be continued...? Maybe.  
> I will go ahead and admit that there are clear plot holes in this. I'm pretty sure Viren was actually the only person aside from Claudia going down into the dungeons, but for the sake of the plot, he has hired help that does it when he's unavailable, and other guards are allowed in as well. I'm sure there are other plot points I'm completely ignoring in this, but, hey, what's fan fic for if not to ignore plot points?  
> (Currently at a T-rating for the first chapter but with intent to become Explicit.)  
> (Note: I never start things at an actual beginning. Ever. It's a bad habit of mine. So there is no real basis for this. It just...is.)

“Oh, please tell me that’s for me.”

Sira looked up, startled, to see Gren looking hopefully at the tray of food in her hands as she came down the steps. The General’s right hand man had been down in the dungeon for well into a week, and his beard growth was starting to mark the time. His eyes were slightly shadowed as well, but otherwise he seemed no less perky than the day he’d been brought down there. Sira had felt bad for him from the first day, and still did. If she’d had any idea where the keys were she’d have let him loose by now.

But she hadn’t. Because Lord Viren _always_ had the keys. And Lord Viren also had the Crow Master under his thumb which meant she hadn’t been able to send a notice to General Amaya about the turn of events either.

Sighing, she gave Gren a small smile and carefully laid the tray at his feet.

“It’s for you,” she assured him, bending to scoop up the bowl of gruel and holding it out for him.

He took it eagerly and dug in. He pulled a face after the first mouthful, but didn’t hesitate to keep eating.

“This stuff is gross,” he complained, even as he shoved even more into his mouth.

“I know,” she said with a wry smirk. “Which is why it’s all you’re being allowed to eat. Lord Viren isn’t worried about your personal tastes.”

Lowering her voice, she added, “Speaking of which, is he down here?”

Gren shook his head, cheeks bulging. “Mm-mm. Lef’ earlier.”

He gave a mighty swallow and jutted his chin towards the closed door across from him.

“He was in there for a good long while, muttering in the dark, but then he came storming out and slammed the door and went off somewhere else. He looked in a right foul mood so I didn’t say anything.” He frowned as he licked the bowl clean and handed it back to her. “I’m dying to know what’s in there. I know he’s got a mirror in there and I figure he’s trying to cast spells on it to get some kind of reaction, but I don’t know if he’s actually managed anything yet.”

Sira frowned. She knew the mirror Gren was talking about. Viren had kept it in his private study for over a year now and had been obsessed with uncovering its secrets. Assuming it had any to begin with. Apparently it had been kept by the beside of the King and Queen of Dragons. Viren seemed to think that made it valuable. Sira suspected it just meant that--like humans--dragons might like to know what their scales looked like before heading out to face the other dragons in public. Royalty had standards to uphold, even across species. At least that’s what she thought. But Viren was a bit of a fanatic, so his theories naturally were much more fantastic.

“You should check it out.”

She stopped dead, her hand halfway to the glass of water she’d brought for Gren.

“Come again?” she said, looking up at him in disbelief.

He grinned and chucked his chin at the door again. “You should peek and see what’s going on in there. I’d do it myself, cause I _really_ want to know what’s in there but…” He tugged half-heartedly on his chains to emphasize the point.

She looked warily over her shoulder at the door. “You said he’s been muttering in there on his own?”

“Yep.” He took the glass when she offered it and knocked back the entire contents in one large, noisy gulp.

“How do you know he hasn’t put wards on the chamber to keep someone else from going in?”

Gren looked bemused. “Wards? Like...protective magical stuff? Why would he? It’s the dungeon. No one’s been down here but him. And you, of course. And I don’t think he’d consider you a real threat to his secrets. You’re, supposedly, on his side, right?”

He waggled his eyebrows at her as she raised her own at him.

“Right,” she said slowly, failing to fight back a smirk.

He grinned broadly and nodded eagerly at the door. “Check it out! Come on. If something happens and he tries to blame you I’ll just say I threatened you to go in there.”

“You threatened me?” she asked skeptically, eyeing his chains.

“...Okay, maybe not that then. Um...I was starting to show signs of a seizure and you ran in there to see if maybe he had some special magical herbs to help me because you were panicking?”

“...That could work.”

Plus, she was just as curious as he was, though she suspected she was also a good deal more afraid of what might happen if Viren suddenly reappeared and found her in the chamber. Gren didn’t have too much to worry about. He was already imprisoned and Viren wasn’t about to risk killing him when he still needed Amaya on his side. Sira, on the other hand, was a servant girl. She had been born a servant girl and would probably die a servant girl. And maybe much sooner than she’d anticipated, if she wasn’t careful. Still, she _really_ wanted to know what was going on in that room.

She’d heard the screams from the dungeon one of the nights that Viren had gone to interrogate the remaining Moonshadow assassin. She hadn’t been asked to bring food for him since. Gren had said he’d seen Viren walk out of the room looking ashen and “just downright spooky”, and holding some sort of golden coin with runes on the edges, talking about “capturing the same expression”. She didn’t know what that meant precisely, but it had given her the chills hearing it. She wasn’t sure what she was going to find in that room, but it probably wouldn’t be all sunshine and daisies.

She sucked in a slow, deep breath, and then turned to peg Gren with a steely eye. “If I die in there, I am so coming back to haunt you.”

He grinned cheekily at her. “Cool! I’ll have a ghost friend! No one else has a ghost friend. You’ll be excellent at helping us infiltrate fortresses and stuff if you come back as a ghost.”

“Gods above, Gren, that was a joke!”

“I know,” he said, winking, “But it’d still be cool. All the other guys would be so jealous.”

“They’d be creeped out. And I don’t want to be dead!”

“I don’t want you to be dead, either, but I _do_ want to know what’s in that room. And so do you,” he said slyly.

“You’re such scum.”

“Yep. Figure that’s what’s got me in chains right now. Still, I’m curious.”

So was she. And she was going in that room. Gods help her.

Sighing again, she turned and made her way cautiously over to it, not entirely ready to take Gren’s word for it that Viren wouldn’t have put some sort of magical ward on the door to keep others out. Viren didn’t trust anyone. He’d have been stupid not to put protection on the door if he thought the mirror held magical value and he had finally managed to uncover what that value was.

She took another few tentative steps forward, hesitated, then sucked in a breath and pushed the door open, bracing for an attack, or a shock, or a surge of magical power.

Nothing.

She let the breath out, staring around the mostly empty chamber in surprise.

“Huh,” she said, hands on hips.

“See? What’d I tell you?” Gren asked, a little smugly. “No wards!”

Well, then Viren was just stupid. Lucky them.

She crept forward slightly, peering into the dark corners of the chamber. The mirror stood with its back to her, facing a chair that she suspected Viren had taken to occupying during his brooding sessions. A small table sat to the right of the chair. A small ceramic bowl, a dagger, and half of a cracked open geode sat in its center.

She crept further into the room, and gave a small squeak of surprise and disgust when she saw what else was on the table. On the corner closest to the mirror’s front, a glass jar housed a fat, eerily purple and blue caterpillar. At least, she thought it was a caterpillar. It certainly looked like one, except its head was much larger than the typical caterpillar, and was fringed with antennae that made her think of a crown. It had been still when she’d first walked in, but at her squeak it sat up and swiveled in the jar.

Upon seeing her it reared up against the side of the jar and began scrabbling its many legs against the side, clearly desperate for freedom.

“What is it?” Gren asked from behind her, sounding both worried and excited.

“A bug,” she said. “Like...it’s a weird kind of caterpillar or something. He’s got it in a jar in here.”

“A bug? That’s it?” Gren sounded as disappointed as she felt. “Is it a magical bug?”

“Probably,” she said. “If it’s staying in here and Viren keeps coming down here. Has he brought leaves or anything any of the times he’s been here recently?”

“Uh...not that I’ve noticed.”

She frowned, a pang of sympathy managing to work its way through the bubble of apprehension she felt looking at the trapped bug. It’s jar was completely devoid of twigs or leaves or anything like food. And it continued to wiggle its legs frantically at her, unable to climb the slick glass and get out of the jar on its own.

“You gonna let it out?” Gren asked.

“I don’t know,” she said uncertainly, walking over to look down at it. “Won’t he notice if it’s gone?”

“You could tip the jar over and make it look like it escaped,” Gren suggested. “Unless you think it’s dangerous. Then leave it where it is. I’m not interested in getting eaten by some magical caterpillar that can grow to massive proportions and swallow me whole.”

She leaned slowly back out of the door at that point, eyebrows raised high. “Seriously?”

Gren shrugged. “I’m just saying. It could happen.”

The horrible thing was he was right. Still…

She paused, a sudden thought occuring to her as she looked back down at the caterpillar...thing… The Moonshadow elf had vanished a little less than a week ago, but Gren had said they’d never removed a body from the cell, and he hadn’t smelled blood or anything when Viren had come out of the room after the elf had stopped screaming. What if…?

“Sira?” Gren called. “You okay?”

“Yeah…” she said softly, eyes wide as she stared down at the unusual purple insect. Hadn’t that Moonshadow elf had slightly purple skin, too? And...maybe those antennae represented his horns…? “Gren, I’m going to let it out.”

“What?” Gren’s voice shot up a half octave. “You think that’s a good idea?”

“Probably not,” she said, even as she reached for the jar, “But...I have a theory.”

“What theory--” Gren started to ask, but stopped abruptly as the unmistakable sound of the outer dungeon door opening hit their ears.

Sira froze, one hand resting on the top of the jar, the other over her mouth. Oh, damn…

“Sira,” Gren hissed, “The tray! Get the tray!”

She about tripped in her haste to respond. She hurried back out of the room, yanking the door shut behind her and stooping to pick up the tray.

She turned for the stairs, and realized a problem at the same moment Gren hissed it.

“The door didn’t close!”

Cursing under her breath she raced back over and yanked on the door handled again. It wouldn’t stay shut. The door thunked hollowly into the frame, then hung open a few inches, clearly not the way Viren had left it earlier.

“It won’t close!” she whispered desperately.

The sound of footsteps overhead was coming slowly closer.

“Go inside and hold the door shut!” Gren hissed back.

“What? No! What if he comes in?” she asked, fighting panic. She set the tray down and tried to yank the door shut as quietly as possible. It would do no good for her to slam it and alert whoever was about to come downstairs that something was amiss.

“He won’t! Those aren’t his footsteps. They’re too heavy. That’s some bonehead guard coming to check on me. Get in there!”

She wanted to argue the point, but the upper door creaked open before she could speak, and, after a desperate whimper she scooped up the food tray, darted back into the chamber, and leaned heavily against the door to keep it in place as clanking footsteps started down the stairwell towards them.

She heard a muffled voice--female, she thought--speak in a questioning tone, and then Gren’s cheerful response.

“Lord Viren? Nope, haven’t seen him today.”

Another low inquiry, then Gren spoke again. “Nah, it’s locked. Lord Viren always locks that door when he comes out. Makes you wonder what’s in there, huh? You think maybe he keeps his stuffed glow toad collection in there?”

There was a curt reply, then more clanking as the guard retreated back up the stairs. Sira remained leaning heavily against the door, eyes tight shut, barely breathing, her heart thundering in her chest.

“Gods above and below, I’m going to _kill him_ ,” she muttered to no one in particular.

This had been a stupid idea. She needed to get the heck out of here before someone else--like Viren--showed up and discovered her. And she needed to get the door to stay shut this time.

Heaving a deep sigh, she straightened up, and opened her eyes. It took her a moment to realize what she was seeing. She’d expected only the faintest trace of light, and she’d expected it to be coming from under the door. There was light, but it was much brighter than what she’d been expecting, and it was coming from the mirror.

She stayed very still for a moment, once again scarcely daring to breathe, then slowly knelt down, placing the tray on the floor. She straightened cautiously, then crept towards the front of the mirror. The vibrantly purple caterpillar appeared to have become docile while she’d been up against the door, but the moment she came back into view it started circling the bottom of the jar before lifting onto its back legs and tapping rapidly against the glass with its many legs. Its many antannae moved rapidly, but another, much more deliberate movement to her left caught her attention, and she turned to face the mirror.

She didn’t scream, but it was a damn close thing. There was certainly light coming out of the mirror, cast--it seemed--by the roaring fire in a mantleplace off to the right side of the mirror. In fact, there seemed to be an entire room on the other side of the mirror. But that didn’t really matter to her at the moment. What mattered was that there was a figure standing immediately before the mirror, close enough that--if it weren’t for the mirror itself--they would have been a mere foot from each other. And the figure was looking directly at her.

Tall, dark, but with bright, flickering lights all across its cheeks, and an even larger one in the center of its chest. They wore a hood, but that didn’t hide the eerily pulsating golden glow of their eyes as they peered almost curiously back at her. Their hands were linked neatly in front of them, and she noted for the briefest moment that they had only four fingers on each hand. An elf?

She stared at the being for a long moment, and they stared back, though with much less shock than she might have expected. Apparently, they were used to viewing others through the  mirror. Others, she realized, like Viren. _This_ was what Viren had been doing in here. He’d been looking at, and potentially even speaking to, this elf in the mirror. But why hadn’t she ever seen this image before? She’d seen the mirror plenty of times in Viren’s study when she’d been sent in there to clean.

She paused, taking just enough of a moment to gather her thoughts. She’d never been in a room without lights in it. Naturally, she’d needed the lights on to clean. There were no lights in here in this chamber. Except the mirror itself. It was like the stars during the day. You knew they still had to be there, they didn’t just go away. They just weren’t bright enough to be seen in the daylight.

And...now that she thought of it...this elf looked like starlight. At least, the spots on his face and his chest did. That bright silver flickering against his indigo skin.

She took a slow breath, trying not to panic, and turned fully to face the mirror. The elf continued to watch her quietly, not speaking, and merely lifted a sleek white eyebrow at her as they gazed at each other.

“Who are you?” she asked softly.

The elf blinked, but didn’t reply.

She repeated the question, a tiny bit louder. Maybe the mirror prevented him from hearing her clearly.

The elf’s shoulders rose and fell in a clearly depicted sigh, though she could hear nothing, then gestured with a hand towards the edge of the mirror. She frowned, and looked towards the frame, but saw nothing. She looked back at the elf and shook her head, uncomprehending. The elf gave the tiniest of smirks, and pointed again, this time making a slight fluttering motion with its four fingers. She looked again, bemused, and this time the caterpillar caught her attention as it rapped its many legs against the glass of its jar.

As soon as she looked at it, it became still, but its antennae twitched in her direction, and she was struck by a sudden, uncomfortable suspicion. Carefully, she lifted the jar from the table and held it up in front of the mirror for the elf to see.

The luminous eyes shifted briefly to the jar, the smirk broadened, and it nodded at her. The elf pointed once at the jar, then to one of its long, tapered ears, then at her.

Oh, she really didn’t like where she thought this was going. She should put the jar down and leave. Right now. She could already hear Gren calling quietly for her on the other side of the door, trying not to alert the guards, but clearly anxious for her to come out. She was anxious to go, too, but…

She drew in a slow, steadying breath, and looked down at the caterpillar. It seemed to be watching her just as intently as the elf in the mirror. Waiting.

“I’m so going to regret this,” she muttered, then set the jar back down and removed the lid. She reached a hand in, every fiber in her body telling her it was a horrible idea, and winced as the caterpillar latched eagerly onto her hand and began scuttling its way up her arm. She resisted the urge to swat it off when it reached her shoulder, and merely held her breath, trembling, as it sneaked up the back of her neck and curled around her ear. She shuddered and whimpered.

“Ew,” she mumbled.

“ _Don’t worry, he won’t bite…_ ”

She nearly came out of her skin as a low, sultry voice spoke right in her ear. She certainly banged her hand good and hard as she jerked away from the table and knocked it against the armrest of the chair behind her.

“Ow, ow, ow, _ow_ ,” she hissed, cradling her hand as it throbbed painfully.

The low voice chuckled, still right in her ear, making the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.

“ _My apologies. I should have given you warning._ ”

She turned, eyes watering slightly, to look back at the mirror. The elf was still watching her, its--no, _his_ expression quite amused.

“I was wrong then,” she murmured.

The elf lifted that sleek eyebrow again. “ _Wrong?_ ” he inquired.

“About what this bug was. I thought…” she hesitated, then figured she might as well say it. “We had another elf here in the dungeons about a week ago. Another of the prisoners heard him screaming but a body was never removed. I thought maybe this”--she gestured to the caterpillar nestled around her ear--“was him. Just transfigured by Viren.”

“ _Ahh, I see._ ” The elf looked musing at that. _“_ I _t was not a bad theory, and you are not terribly far off, but, no. That creature is of my making. An extension of myself. It allows me to speak, and be heard, from this place._ ”

That brought so many questions bubbling to the surface of her mind, but she felt like she was already running on borrowed time so she settled for just one. “Who are you?”

The elf’s smirk returned. “ _That would be of no importance to you._ ”

“If it weren’t of importance to me, I wouldn’t have asked,” she pointed out coolly, folding her arms over her chest.

The elf seemed mildly surprised by that. He chuckled again. “ _My name would hold no meaning for you._ ”

“Doesn’t have to. Your name is still your name and I’d like to know what it is.”

He was definitely amused by that. “ _You wouldn’t happen to be an apprentice to Viren, would you?_ ”

“No,” she said, a little too sharply.

The elf’s eyebrows shot up.

She sighed. “Excuse me. No, I am not. Lord Viren practices a magic that I personally take issue with. Even if he would have me as an apprentice, I would refuse.”

“ _And what magic would that be?_ ”

“Dark magic. But I believe I asked you a question first,” she reminded him. “What is your name?”

The elf’s eyes seemed to smolder at that, and she felt an uncomfortable, though not entirely unpleasant jolt in the pit of her stomach.

“ _I am called Aaravos. And, if you are not an apprentice to Viren, what are you doing here?_ ”

Okay, now the jolt in her stomach was unpleasant. She should’ve stuck with the apprentice bit when it had been offered to her. Too late now.

“I’m...satisfying my own personal curiosity,” she admitted, averting her gaze.

“ _Oh? And have I been able to satisfy you?_ ”

She didn’t know what it was...maybe the way he said it, or the low, resonating notes of his voice, but there was something about the way he phrased that question that made her uncomfortably aware that she was alone in the dark with an unknown, probably magical being with unclear intentions and… Yeah, she really needed to leave.

“I...think you have,” she said without looking at the mirror, and started to reach for the caterpillar. “I should go.”

“ _Wait._ ”

She froze. There was no command in his tone, but she felt a compulsion to do as he said, and even looked back up into the mirror. He was still watching her, and he was no longer smirking.

“ _You said you would never be an apprentice to Viren, because he uses Dark Magic_ ,” he said slowly, that low voice sliding over her skin in ways she really wished it wouldn’t.

“Yes,” she agreed, hand still half-raised to the insect clutching at her ear.

“ _Do you oppose Dark Magic so strongly?_ ” he asked softly.

She hesitated for a moment, thinking over her answer. “I oppose the source it draws power from,” she said finally. “The actions themselves sometimes are good, but the means to achieve them is something that I, personally, cannot condone. Using the power of creatures who have not agreed to offer it isn’t something I can approve of. I know having magic is useful, and to humans it has become something of a necessity. Some think they need it to keep our kingdoms safe and thriving, others think we need it to counteract whatever comes at us from Xadia, and while I can understand that mindset I can’t look at what Lord Viren sacrifices and see how it was worthwhile. If having magic like that means having to kill or hurt others to achieve it, it’s not magic I want part of.”

She eyed him skeptically for a long moment, then asked, “Does that answer your question?”

“ _It does_ ,” he confirmed, inclining his head. “ _But, if you were to live a life with magic--only Dark Magic--or not at all, which would you choose?_ ”

“Not at all,” she said immediately.

“ _Oh?_ ” He was amused again. “ _That was a quick answer._ ”

“I already live without it,” she said, shrugging. “I have no magic of my own to conjure a fire for my family, or heal my brothers or mother when they are sick. I cannot summon the elements, or protect from them. While our kingdom may live and thrive with magic, my family and I, as individuals, do not. So, essentially, I already live without magic.”

“ _A fair assessment,_ ” Aaravos said, nodding slowly.

There was a pause, and she took a step away from the mirror, her hand lifting to the caterpillar again.

“ _What if you could learn magic--real magic--but you had to use Dark Magic as a first step to achieving it?_ ”

She stopped again, taken aback by the question.

Aaravos took advantage of her confusion to elaborate.

“ _Humans, as a rule of nature, cannot perform magic. At least not magic wrought from the Six Primal Sources. I am sure you know this. Only those in Xadia, the elves and the dragons, are able to achieve such a feat. But, if you could learn to do true magic, to draw it from a Primal Source, by using Dark Magic as a template to lay the groundwork, would you do it?_ ”

That took longer to think about. She’d always liked the Xadian magic she’d heard about. It sounded so much purer. So much more...natural. Xadian magic didn’t require sacrifice of other beings, or using forces outside of the natural ones. She used to dream of learning Xadian magic, until she’d learned that it was impossible for humans. But...to use Dark Magic to get to learn Xadian magic?

“I couldn’t,” she said finally, shaking her head, looking Aaravos directly in the eyes. “I’m not saying that for someone else it wouldn’t be an option, but... I couldn’t do it. Taking magic from magical beings just to be able to do it myself isn’t what I believe in.”

Somehow, she thought Aaravos looked very satisfied with that answer.

“ _So, let’s say,_ ” he murmured, “ _That your brother took up Dark Magic to learn Primal Magic, and he knowingly and willingly sacrificed a magical being to obtain its power, but in the process managed to cure an incurable human disease, would you judge him for it?_ ”

She frowned. “I’d be disappointed,” she admitted, “But I would try to understand his reasoning. And so long as he understood and respected the sacrifice that it took to achieve that, I would try to be content with it. That, to me, is the difference. Using magical beings for their power, especially against their will, without respecting the sacrifice is the difference between Dark Magic for the sake of good, or simply for the sake of power.”

“ _Interesting…_ ” Aaravos eyed her thoughtfully, his head tilted slightly to one side. The action was almost catlike.

“Any other questions?” she asked, glancing anxiously at the door. “I’m really not looking forward to being caught in here. Or is that what you’re hoping for?”

Aaravos chuckled lowly. “ _No. I find you far too interesting to wish for your capture and resulting punishment. But, perhaps, it is best to end this particular visit for now. Though_ ,” his voice dropped to an even lower register, and his eyes seemed to smolder again, “ _I do hope you will visit again. I know Viren may desire to keep me all to himself, but I’ve been alone far too long to be satisfied by the company of just one individual._ ”

She frowned at that. “How long have you been alone? Where are you anyway?”

“ _I am not certain,_ ” he admitted, looking carelessly at his surroundings. “ _But, regardless, so long as I have interesting company, I will not want for much else. And you, my dear, are quite interesting…_ ”

The subtle curve of his lips made her skin prickle, and her mouth went very dry for a moment.

“I’m taking this off now,” she said, pointing to the caterpillar.

“ _Very well_ ,” he said, “ _I look forward to learning **your** name next time_.”

She didn’t speak, but merely nodded and hastily tugged the bug away from her ear before placing it carefully back in its jar. The silence was unnatural after hearing Aaravos’s voice so distinctly, but she could sense his eyes on her through the mirror as she replaced the lid on the jar and set it back as close to its original location as she could remember. She repositioned the chair she’d knocked into, then turned to face the mirror a final time.

Aaravos inclined his head, his eyes never leaving her face, even as she stepped away from the mirror and over to the door of the chamber. She noticed as she did that the door had remained closed this time, and wondered for the briefest instance if Aaravos had been purposefully keeping the door from closing the first time. If he’d been able to see her from his side of the mirror the first time, maybe he’d wanted to make sure she stuck around for a chat. The thought unnerved her a little, and she shivered as she collected the tray by the door and slid out after poking her head out to check the coast was clear.

“Gods above and below, what were you _doing_?” Gren whispered frantically as she appeared. “I was worried you’d died of fright or that giant caterpillar had eaten you or something!”

“It wasn’t a giant caterpillar,” she sighed, rolling her eyes, her mood much less panicked now that she was back in the open air, and out of the darkness. “It was a regular sized caterpillar and it didn’t try to eat me.”

“So what were you doing in there?” Gren asked, sounding half annoyed, half desperately curious. “Did you see something weird with the mirror?”

“Yeah,” she admitted, lowering her voice.

“What?” he asked eagerly.

“Nothing. It wasn’t reflecting anything.”

“ _What_? How is that possible?!”

“Because it was pitch black in there, dummy,” she told him, knocking him lightly on the head as she passed and started up the stairs. “I don’t know what Viren is doing in there, but at this point, I’m happy not to know.”

“You were in there an awfully long time for someone just being stuck in a dark room,” Gren mused.

“The door was stuck,” she lied. “I think I leaned on it too hard and I couldn’t get it to come open at first.”

She didn’t think Gren entirely believed that, but it was the best she could do, and he had to stop asking questions or he’d have to holler them up the stairs after her and everyone would hear.

She was just starting to breathe a little easier when abruptly her breath cut off as she opened the outer door to the dungeons to find Viren just about to open it from the other side. She nearly dropped the tray, and couldn’t help the tiny squeak of surprise she gave.

“Lord Viren!”

He blinked, looking down at her. “Oh, good afternoon. Just finishing giving the Commander his lunch, I presume?”

“Ah, yes, my Lord,” she said, quickly ducking her head in a shallow bow, hoping to hide her expression.

She didn’t know what her face looked like, but she didn’t trust herself not to give something away if she had to look directly at him.

“Very good,” Viren said boredly, striding past her without a backward glance.

She waited a half a second before hurrying out of the dungeon and closing the door behind her, heart hammering.

That had been way too damn close. If she’d spent another minute in that room with Aaravos… She shivered, unnerved, and hurried away.

But even as she tried to convince herself that she would never go back down into that dungeon room again, she was already plotting out when she might be able to sneak down there, without alerting Viren, and without Gren noticing and getting suspicious. It’d be easy enough to get around Viren. His schedule was pretty much public knowledge these days, since he was acting as regent to the kingdom. Gren would be harder. Maybe she could sneak past while he was asleep…

She groaned as she entered the kitchen, catching herself midthought. Gods, she was so screwed. She’d spent less than ten minutes in the room with that elf, and she was already curious to know more.

“Took you long enough,” said the cook, turning to eye her beadily from the stove. “You and that Commander doing something down there I don’t want to be knowing about?”

“Oh, dear gods, no,” said Sira, grimacing. “Especially not with that beard thing he’s got going on.”

“Then what kept you?” cook demanded, hands on hips, a sauce smeared ladle in one hand.

“He wanted to complain about the gruel and wouldn’t let me walk away until I heard his every whine and woe,” Sira said with a little smirk as she placed the dirty dishes in the sink and set to washing them.

Cook grunted and rolled their eyes. “If he’s got any new complaints, I’ll be happy to hear ‘em, but at this point I think I’ve heard ‘em all. Still, he should consider himself lucky that he’s getting anything at all. Lord Viren was preaching the values of less being more when it came to what we’d feed the Commander. It was either the gruel or stale bread crusts.”

“I’ll let him know you made the choice out of compassion,” Sira said, scrubbing hard at a dried speck of gruel. “I think he’s convinced you’re trying to torture him.”

“Maybe a little,” said Cook with a tiny grin. “I remember that boy running around here as a youngster. Nothing but trouble, he was. Still…” Their expression fell slightly as they turned back to the stove. “I never wanted to see him locked up like he is. It’s a damn shame.”

Sira nodded her agreement but stayed silent. Her mind was only half aware of the conversation anyway. The rest of it was drifting back towards the chamber, with Aaravos. Her stomach gave a sickening roll as a thought occurred to her. Viren was down there now, and there was nothing to stop Aaravos from telling him that she had been in there. She knew he’d essentially said he didn’t want her getting caught because she was “interesting”, but, seriously? How interesting could she really be? That sounded like that dumb line so many of the village boys had taken to using these days when they told her she was “unique” or “special” because she got to work in the castle.

They were only saying it because they thought it might get them a good lay. Of course, she doubted that was entirely Aaravos’s motivation. He was, after all, seemingly trapped in that mirror. She figured it would be hard to get much of anything from the other side of a mirror. Still...it didn’t mean he _wouldn’t_ tell Viren. Or let something slip.

The thought remained with her all the rest of the day and into the evening when she finally retired to her room, tired and ready for sleep. She only stopped worrying about Viren bursting into her room to confront her when her head hit the pillow, and she’d fallen fast asleep in moments.


End file.
